


Dolce Amoroso Foco

by livingplants



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 20:53:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15871551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingplants/pseuds/livingplants
Summary: In which the unlikely pair of a Bavarian Duke's royal guard and a Roman baker's boy meet on Sundays, have picnics, and accidentally steal a painting that's worth more than either of them can fathom.





	Dolce Amoroso Foco

Laughter bounced off the walls of the small home as Feliciano wiped off the flour from his cheek, covering his hands with thick cloth as he reached into the oven to pull out the freshly baked bread. He gasped lightly at the beautifully baked colour of the goodness, taking in its delightful scent as he gently dropped it into his basket. Once again, he began to hum the same tune that he'd heard at the plaza just yesterday, leaning back a bit to squint at the picture of the small kitchen before lighting up and grinning as if remembering something, reaching over to place an oddly miniature wheel of cheese neatly into the basket beside the bread, along with a small bottle of wine and a nicely cooked leg of rabbit meat wrapped in cloth. Perfect! Feliciano had been planning this picnic for weeks and he finally found the time for it!

Born and raised on the second floor of popular bakery ' _Pane del Vargas_ '  in the heart of Rome, Feliciano Vargas grew up in a humble home with his dearest brother Lovino and his grandfather, whom he lovingly called his  _nonno_. He'd never known his parents, but his Nonno loved him and Romano plenty! Sure, sometimes he'd have dreams about sunny days by the riverside, and the warm embrace of the blurry figure of a woman he didn't quite recognise... But otherwise, Feliciano was content with the two most important people in his life and loved them both dearly.

So much that he never complained of working at the said bakery, despite the constant booming peaks in customers every passing season. Especially as of late, customers had really just been going in and out nonstop, and being in charge of most of the pastries - an important duty! - had him trapped behind the counter and back in the kitchen, fingers kneading through what felt like miles and miles of dough from sunrise to sunset.

Even on such a beautiful day like this, when the rays of light cascaded past the windows so serenely and the morning birds sang such sweet songs along the windowsill, if it weren't for Nonno granting a day off for his brother and him, he would still have been working away at the shop downstairs. Already having decided not to waste this gift (like Lovino probably was going to), Feliciano took off his apron to hang it and examined himself in the small mirror on the wall before grinning wide, heading towards the door, hand on the big ring—… 

Ah! And just before he forgot, he hobbled over to the table under the mirror to pick up his small leather-bound sketchbook, fitting it under his arm as he dropped his most treasured pen and bottle of ink into the basket, right by the bottle. How could he forget? He could only thank is his self from last night, the one that’d thought to leave his supplies right by the door in case he forgot. As much as people laughed light-heartedly at his frequent forgetfulness, Feliciano knew fully well how to take care of himself! 

… Most of the time.

“Lovi, I'm heading out! I'll be back soon!” He called upstairs.

A muffled grunt was heard in response, and he took that as a sign to mark his departure, only to be called out to once he opened the door. 

"Buy me some string from Signore Fattore's store," Lovino's head popped out from above, peeking past his and Feliciano's shared quarters to catch him before he left. 

"What for? Are you going  _hunting_ again?" Feliciano's brows furrowed in worry, holding his basket up closer to his chest. "Nonno told you not to do that anymore! Don't you remember what happened last time?"

He couldn't see very well, but he could almost hear his brother rolling his eyes. "It was only a boar, I could have handled it myself!" His next words were mumbled a little quieter, "He's just making a big deal out of nothing." 

"But still..."

"Just do it, won't you?  _Feli_ , it's right around the corner, and I can't fix my bow without it. I can't shoot with _snapped_ string." Lovino was growing exasperated, and Feliciano jutted his bottom lip out the slightest bit, looking to the side for a bit before his face brightened with an idea. He didn't like it much when his brother snuck out in the late afternoons to satisfy his growing penchant for roaming the woods alone, but--... Lovino seemed to have caught on sooner than Feliciano could speak, quickly adding, "... I'll bring back whatever new flowers I find on the way, you're still making that thing, aren't you?"

There it was! Lovino knew him too well! New additions to the little project he'd started last month where he dried flowers and flattened them with books to make rings of crowns and decorations to place all over the house. those were always very much appreciated. "Yes!  _Grazie, fratello_! You're the best!" Grinning brightly, he stretched on his tip-toes to wave his brother good-bye. Surely he would come back home safe and before dark. "Don't go out too far out and get lost!"

"Don't you dare tell Nonno!"

"I wo-on't!" 

And he was out the door.

The streets really weren't usually this crowded, but today seemed to be special for some reason. From what Feliciano could tell, evident from the hushed gossip of people on the street, there seemed to be some sort of a fight that broke out down the street. 

Feliciano bit his bottom lip and hurried along, not wanting to get tangled in trouble. Fighting frightened him and he most definitely did not wish to get caught up in it. He took a swift turn and skipped down the street, smiling at shopkeepers he knew and giving his greetings to a few. He was a familiar face to many in these parts of the town, as he always took early morning walks before heading on over to the bakery with his Nonno and Lovino.

It really wasn't very often that he'd get to roam around like this without a single care in the world (although he was often told to stay out of trouble)... So it was one of these rare moments of solitude that Feliciano would sometimes miss having, as much as he loved meeting new people and chatting away.

After having found his way out of the main streets, he proceeded down a small cobblestone stairway and into a narrow alley, finally reaching an opening to arrive at the river Tiberis, taking a seat in his usual small spot on the grass, looking out on the beautiful waters as small boats and ships sailed by. It’d really been too long since he'd last come down here. Reaching into the basket, he tore off a piece of the bread and popped it into his mouth, smiling as he slowly lay his back into the grass with his eyes closed. 

Although this was all he’d ever known, this city, this air, this river, these people, Nonno’s stories expanded far beyond the fences around Feliciano’s world. Tales of majestic cities,  _Serinissima_ and the jade-green seas off the coasts of the south, the bustling, vibrant  _Firenze_ in all its beautiful, most exquisite artistic glory… Even the lands far away! Talks of snow-tipped mountains and deep, blue rivers by endless forests of thick, dark trees and the mysterious stories about the creatures that lay hidden past the bushes and in the foggy groves... Oh, it was all too wonderful! 

The young man took his time getting lost in his imagination as he always did, only sitting up after making shapes out of the clouds, humming under his breath as he pulled out the pages from his basket and dropped it into his lap. With another hand he picked up the bottle of ink, pried off the cork at the top and dipped his pen. One stroke across the page to draw the bridge, another to make out the little shops along the port on the other side of the river, a few small details here and there, and the scenic landscape seemed to come to life on paper. His face beamed proudly as he held up the sketch, comparing it to the real thing, before letting out a long sigh. 

_Yes_. This was what _peace_ was…! Everything was so serene, so calm, and yet the city that lay just beyond the riverside, just behind him… The hustle and bustle, it all felt forgotten for a moment. Not much of a busy-body type of person, Feliciano's easy-going nature really craved these little excursions every once in a while, and the realisation only dawned on him when he actually found the time to come down to this secret place of his. 

A soft breeze blew into the wind, the sun shining softly onto his face…

… Until he began to hear the unfamiliar sound of footsteps somewhere around him. A small smile graced his face as he called out, paying no heed to the dangers that may follow an unexpected encounter with a stranger, “Good morning!”

The other's response was slow, very slow; almost hesitant, as if caught by surprise— if Feliciano could trust his intuition.

“… Good… morning.”

It became immediately evident that the other was not Italian. His interest suddenly piqued as he set aside his supplies, turning to face this stranger. He was a tall, built blond clad in ornate uniform; judging from the royal, glistening patterns that etched his sleeves and the fancy boots that sounded so heavily when he walked, the man was probably very rich. With his head tilted slightly, Feliciano's lips turned upwards into his usual bright smile as he piped,

“Where are you from, stranger?”

It didn’t take very long for the foreigner to reply this time. “I... hail from Bavaria.” Ah... A Germanian! Feliciano had Nonno's old books to thank for this one. “… Might I ask the way to the main port? It appears that I’ve... come the wrong way.”

Clearly, such a small riverbank could not have been mistaken to be the main port of the city. Although in the back of his mind, knew the man probably was making something up here, Feliciano’s lips shaped into an ‘O’, as if suddenly understanding something. “Oh! You’re lost! I’ll take you there, sir, if you’d like!” He smiled widely as he stood, dusting himself off. He figured leaving his stuff there would get it stolen, so he decided he’d simply move places. It didn’t hurt to change paces every once in a while. Besides, there was plenty to be explored on the other side of town, too!

“Ah,” the other began, seeming almost surprised for a moment. Perhaps his home country did not show the same hospitality. … Hm. And now that the brunet stood up, he realised how tall the other really was. Broad shoulders, a big frame, and a pretty sword at his side - that hilt had to be pure gold! - made it very obvious he was built to be able to hold his own in a fight. The embodiment of masculinity, almost. Feliciano wondered if  _he_ could ever look like that. "... That would be appreciated. Thank you... very much."

And with that, the two had set off from the riverbank and headed up the cobblestone steps and onto the road. While they walked, Feliciano, elated to see a foreigner, had lots to ask the other to quench his undying curiosity for the unknown. “You speak really good Latin, sir! What is your name? Why have you come to Rome? It isn't often that I  _actually_ get to see the important people from the north, even if I hear about them coming, since sometimes they throw festivals as a welcome. And say, your clothes are incredibly fancy, sir, I’ve always wanted to wear something like that. It must be nice walking down the streets all dressed up, huh!”

He hadn’t noticed how his comment had slurred slowly into a long spiel, and he hadn't paid mind to how he was glancing up every once in a while to give the other a smile. Now that he really looked at him, he could really see his face better- although he had to tilt his head up to meet eyes with the stranger. His golden hair was slicked back, pure azure eyes bluer than the Tiberis, and his sharp features were enough to give away that he was not from these parts. It was all very … Different.  _Handsome_. Feliciano couldn’t deny that he caught himself staring a few times, absolutely fascinated.

The Bavarian cleared his throat, clearly thrown off by the sudden barrage of questions. Was he flustered? His cheeks seemed flushed. Feliciano couldn't help but think it was cute that such a big man could look embarrassed. But he supposed he had that effect on people, always talking too much... That's what Nonno always said. 

"I am with Grand Duke Wilhelm of Bavaria on an occasion I cannot specify. I am to accompany him on his duties and serve as one of his guards."

His speech was terse, formal, and stern, obviously not much of a conversationalist, but Feliciano gaped in awe-- he'd never met anybody so important before! A private guard for the Duke! And from a foreign country, no less!

"... And my name is Ludwig Beilschmidt."  

 

* * *

 

Ludwig only realised he probably shouldn't have given away his full name to a stranger a good few seconds after he'd done it, but there was something strange about this man that made him want to tell his entire life away, to babble on for days about how he grew up in a nice little cottage, about his older brother who had surprisingly fantastic swordsmanship, and that his three dogs always accompanied him on long hikes through the woods.

It also made him want to admit that he'd gotten lost following this little Roman around after one of the lower ranking guards of their squadron had ended up somehow in the middle of a local fistfight between a couple local town-goers. Upon breaking up the commotion, Ludwig had directed the rest of the men under his guidance off on their break, telling them that they could get their meal and regroup by the front of the gates of the  _Herzog_ 'stemporary residence by the main river port after having had a talk with the one that had lost his composure in the situation.

And yet here he was now, feeling almost as if his boots sank into the ground every step he took, ashamed he strayed so far from his post. An oddly protruding lump in his pocket began to grow heavier by the second as Ludwig cleared his throat and silently thanked his grandfather for putting him to foreign language studies at a young age, nearly forgetting the entire reason he had followed the Roman in the first place. 

“ _Ludwig Beilschmidt_.” The way the other had sounded his name caught Ludwig off-guard, an odd something quirking at the corners of his lips. He avidly fought the strange tug. “What a name! Sounds grand, like a prince, or someone real up there!” 

He said nothing in response, unsure of what to say.

In fact, he had never met anyone quite like this man before. Most of his time was ever spent with his palm resting on the top of his sword, eyes keen for potential mercenaries sent to murder the Duke for his money (this happened often), or his attention kept firm on the view from the back of the carriage on the occasional diplomatic mission every now and then to train his focus. Staying on task was what he preached, and was what he often reprimanded the foot soldiers stationed at the front gates of the Duke's grand manor for back home.

How strange for this Italian to have been the one to break him from his doctrine -- and all to return the small wheel of cheese that had fallen out of his basket when narrowly avoiding the crowd that had gathered on the street where the fight broke out. Perhaps Ludwig focused far too much on training his keen eye for observation rather than keeping a look out for any potential threats...

"My name is Feliciano! Feliciano Vargas! You can just call me Feliciano. Or Feli for short, if that's too long!" His voice was cheery and piped up excitedly at most everything he said. What was perhaps even more foreign to Ludwig than their obviously different backgrounds was the light that almost exuded from the Italian; an oddly comforting warmth... or that could have only been his own imagination, and the slow heat that rose to his own neck as he averted his gaze elsewhere when the other had turned to look up at him. Who knew? Ludwig sure didn't, for once. "Is it alright if I call you Ludwig, good sir?"

"Yes." He responded tersely with a small nod, eyes following the cobblestone road now, matching the pace of Feliciano's footsteps. He was thinking far too much, as he always did. 

The rest of the way was filled with chatter, mostly on the other's part. Ludwig learnt far more about this Roman than he knew about most of the other men in his squadron. He didn't respond much, but Feliciano seemed to be content with him simply listening. 

"Okay then!" The smile was evident even in his voice as he spoke, "We're almost there now! See that building there? It's the box maker's shop! Take the right turn and you're there! I do hope that's the right port you're talking about, though. If it isn't, I'm afraid we'll have to walk a longer way across the river to find the one you're looking for..." Feliciano trailed off visibly; his step slowed as he looked to the side, as if contemplating. "But that's okay! So long as you don't mind walking, because I don't, at all! I love looking around town, you know. I know it well, but there's always new things to see!"

They made their way down the path. Ludwig took in the slowly familiar surroundings, but couldn't help stealing glances at the young man at his side. He looked young - perhaps around Ludwig's own age? 

" _Here_ we are!" The other said again, breaking the Bavarian out of his thoughts. 

It was the right port. 

"I apologise for bothering you, er..." Ludwig hesitated. "... Feliciano." His ears warmed at the sight of the genuine smile on the Roman's lips. He wondered if it really was something to be that proud of, leading someone to their destination correctly, or if it was because he had pronounced his name oddly. It also made the heat of the sun burn harder into his back somehow.

"Not at all! Will we meet again? You should come by my Nonno's bakery if you've the time someday, at Pane del Vargas. If you ask around, people know! We make really fantastic bread!"

Ludwig politely bowed in gratitude with a hand on his chest. The invitation was appreciated and he didn't know if he could ever have the time to make his way there, but he was in no place to turn down an offer. His gaze flickered up briefly, and surely, the marble residence was clear in view. It really was the right place, after all. 

"Perhaps."

"So it's a yes! I'll make sure I save the best  _biscotti_ for you until then, I promise! See you again, Ludwig!" Feliciano beamed and turned on his heel after waving a hand, looking back several times as he waved again, again, and again until he disappeared into the smaller streets that winded deep into the busier parts of the city from whence they came. 

Only later that day during routine on-duty walks at the manor would Ludwig find a forgotten, misplaced wheel of cheese in his front pocket and wonder if it really was meant for their paths to cross again so soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have far too many ideas and far too little time to perfect them... This is another idea that I ambitiously attempted to string into words before and only now found the direction I would like it to take. 
> 
> I hope you like it as well. 
> 
> And, as always --
> 
> Fratello = brother.  
> Nonno = grandfather.  
> Herzog = Duke.  
> La Serenissima = The Republic of Venice.  
> Firenze = Florence.


End file.
